


Happy Together

by stickytabletwrites



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Cybertronian Reader (Transformers), F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, In which you attempt to flirt with Sludge and he's a dork with self-esteem issues, M/M, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Swoop attempts to play matchmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickytabletwrites/pseuds/stickytabletwrites
Summary: "Wait what? Hold on, were you…did you have a crush on Sludge? Oh Primus, this was just what you needed in the middle of a war. Still, you could do worse. And the spark wants what the spark wants… So what, maybe you did have a crush on him. You might as well try and see where it goes; in this war you had to make what joys you could."
Relationships: Sludge (Transformers)/Reader, Sludge/Reader
Kudos: 21





	Happy Together

Everyone and their creator knew that the Ark’s med bay was understaffed. Ratchet was the only one qualified enough to consider a doctor, so mechs tried to help out however they could. Being in the war for the better part of your life, you had picked up what medical knowledge you could in order to aid your comrades; you couldn’t offer much, but you tried to help Ratchet as much as you could. Normally this translated into running errands, taking basic vitals, or doing some patch work.

It was all hands on deck in the med bay today. A particularly nasty skirmish sent so many bots your way that anyone in non-critical condition was asked to sit on the floor. You were scurrying about between them, jotting down names and conditions on your datapad. Even the thick platted Dinobots hadn’t come out of the fight clean. The aspiring team medic, Swoop, was one of the few permitted a seat on an exam table, Wheeljack working to reattach his wing. He was the only Dinobot that you had ever really spoken to, being in and around the med bay so often. He was an excitable and enthusiastic young bot, not something anyone would be able to tell with the way his vocalizer was whining static.

His brothers had tried valiantly to remain with him in the med bay but were shooed out by Wheeljack; there were just too many injured bots for them to be taking up all that space. Only Sludge was allowed to stay, waiting to get patched up with the other mechs on the floor. You were saving him for last, not overly eager to face him; his intimidating size dwarfed most bots and the Dinobots weren’t well known for their friendly dispositions.

Eventually, you could put it off no longer. You tried your best to exude confidence and professionalism in your EM field as you approached. Sludge took notice, straightening up from tracing absentminded patterns on the floor panels to send a curious look your way. Oh Primus, he was sitting down and you barely even reached the top of his chassis. 

“So, uh, you’re name’s Sludge, right? I’m Y/N.” He gave a hum in response, nodding his head in agreement that yes, his name was in fact Sludge. “Can you show me where you’re hurt?” He nodded again, moving his right pede out for you to inspect. What you could make out as his alt dino casing was shredded, jagged metal torn and fraying out from the wound.

“Right next to big explosion. Took out him Swoop. Lots of shrapnel, tore off wing and hit me in side.” He turned slightly and gestured to the kibble on his back. “More here.” You gestured for him to turn fully so you could inspect the damage as you jotted down his abridged account on your datapad. He was lucky his plating was so thick, as the force of the explosion probably would’ve hit major energon lines in any other bot. Most of his damage was superficial, deep as it was, though the shrapnel had managed to nick a few minor energon lines.

“There wouldn’t have been an explosion in the first place if it wasn’t for you ditzy dinos!” You finished jotting down the damage before looking sharply in the direction of the whiny outburst. Of course it was Huffer. “If you hadn’t given us away, none of us would be in here!”

“We’re all on the same team, Huffer,” you said with a wave of your servo. “So stop harassing patients or I’ll turn off your vocalizer.” A resounding laugh sounded from behind you.

“You must have a glitch in your memory core, Huffer,” said Hound. “The Dinobots gave us away by saving your tailpipe!”

“I could’ve taken care of it!”

You left the two to their bickering, patting your patient on his knee plating to get his attention. “You’re not too badly damaged. Since I got to you last for diagnostic, I’m gonna go ahead a patch you up first, okay?” You offered Sludge a kind smile, trying to provide better bedside manner than Huffer. He took it, returning your smile with one of his own and moving to expose the damage on his leg more as you fished around subspace for your welder and some titanium patches.

It certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Sludge. He had a knack for denting his plating, either over the course of sparing with his brothers or while out in the field. You would’ve thought that he’d just get Swoop to take care of it, but more and more frequently he would be stopping by the med bay; he said he liked how much quieter it was there than in the retrofitted cave the Dinobots had claimed as their own.

It was almost laughable how intimidating you found Sludge when you first met. He had a gentle spark, reserved and well-intentioned. Sure he didn’t have the fastest processor, but you couldn’t keep up with Perceptor either; and what was a smart mech worth if they weren’t also kind? You’d much rather spend time with Sludge than Shockwave. It didn’t hurt that he was a good listener, too. Despite what other Autobots might suggest, he had a good memory, asking for updates on personal projects that you had mentioned offhandedly the last time you saw him. And he had a creative mind! Swoop had been talking to you about how Sludge had recently taken up two-dimensional etching and drawing. And he had a handsome face, delicate touch when getting your attention, and –

Wait what? Hold on, were you…did you have a crush on Sludge? Oh Primus, this was just what you needed in the middle of a war. Still, you could do worse. And the spark wants what the spark wants… So what, maybe you did have a crush on him. You might as well try and see where it goes; in this war you had to make what joys you could.

“Is it just me or does Y/N look like they’re trying to court somebot?”

It was gossip time in the empty corridor, two mechs making good use of the late hour and lack of nearby audio receptors to concern themselves with the lives of others.

“You just noticed? Yea, I caught em in the wash polishing like it was going out of style,” Cliffjumper gave a short laugh at the memory. “You’da thunk I’d caught em sneaking extra rations with the way they bolted outta there.”

“Any ideas who the lucky mech is?” Powerglide didn’t give the minibot a moment to answer before continuing. “I overheard from Doc Ratch one of the Dinobots has got a lil crush; maybe we’ve got some love-birds on base?”

“Primus, I hope not. No one deserves to have a dumb dino on their tail; they’re so stupid and clumsy, they’d wind up melting the poor bot down! Honestly, I think Y/N deserves better than getting slagged by Slag.”

“You’re just jealous you aren’t getting any,” the plane sniped.

“Powerglide, I’m just a realist. I can’t help that your processor is full of that romantic scrap.”

“Cliffjumper, I can’t help that you have an incurably abrasive personality.” Powerglide gave the Porsche a hearty pat as he began walking further down the hall. “Come on, maybe we can get Ratch to fix that personality component of yours! Or at least we can sit down; my struts are killing me!”

“I do not have an abrasive personality, you silicon sanded showboat!”

Neither took notice of the saddened giant on the other side of the corridor, watching the retreating mechs from around the corner.

Sitting in one of the metal booths stuck to the far wall of the Rec Room, you found yourself thinking it all through. Lost in the swirling liquid of your energon cube, you wondered if you had been reading the situation wrong. You thought that Sludge had reciprocated your feelings, but he hadn’t really responded to your efforts. He never mimicked your attempts at posing or polishing. Maybe he was just unaware of Cybertronian flirting? It would make sense, as he was made on Earth, but even then you would’ve thought someone would take pity on him and explain your efforts. It wasn’t like you were being subtle, even in non-Cybertronian terms. You even got advice from Carly, trying to figure out how she’d won over someone as oblivious as Spike. You tried to be as obvious as possible, complimenting his skills and appearance and inviting him to recreational activities. But even then, he would look flustered and come up with some reason to turn you down. Maybe he was just trying to let you down on amicable terms, ignore your advances but maintain your acquaintanceship. Maybe he-

“Hi! Room here to sit?”

The scratchy voice startled you out of your reprieve; you must’ve really been in your own processor not to notice the dinobot flyer approaching.

“Oh, Swoop! Yeah, of course, take a seat,” you gestured across the table. It was almost humorous watching him try to squeeze himself into the clearly too small booth; being the smallest dinobot still made him one of the biggest Autobots. Finally situating himself, he flashed you a mischievous smirk and his optics flashed in mirth. “How’s it going?”

“Good! Had to get out of Dino Den, though; too loud for reading when Grimlock and Slag fighting.” He emphasized his point by producing an anatomical datapad and setting it on the table.

“Well that’s too bad,” you said. “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Him Snarl hog TV all day, watching Nurse Whitney.” His tone held a slight annoyance at the distraction it must’ve posed to his own studying; you knew he was quite fond of the show, and probably found it near impossible not to be watching it. His optics lit up in sudden remembrance, a squawk making its way past his vocalizer as he straightened his posture. “Sludge work on project! Big art project!”

“Oh?”

“Yes! It pretty, very pretty! Him Sludge good at art. Best Dinobot, maybe even best Autobot! And good at other things too!” Swoop emphasized his point by holding aloft a digit, helm held high with a self-assured expression. “Him strong, very strong! Last fight, him take out twenty, no, thirty Decepticons! Him good at keeping others safe, protecting. Oh, and him best fisher of Dinobots! Good provider! Patient and quiet and-”

“Wait, what’s fishing?”

“Fish earth animals, live in water. Humans and Dinobots like catching fish, very fun and -”

It was hard not to notice the lumbering form of Sludge entering the Rec behind the chatty Pteranodon. His sweeping optics seemed to stop in the direction of your booth (though you suppose it would be hard not to notice Swoop, what with his crest and loud voice), his optics seeming to blink out for a second. Swoop continued on, oblivious to his brother’s presence.

That is until Sludge began stomping his way over. You quickly grabbed onto the table, thankful that it was bolted into the wall as the ground shook under his weight. It wasn’t often you were reminded of his tremorous step, but it seemed that whatever had gotten under his plating was enough for him to have forgotten the virtue of gentle pedes. You didn’t expect to see his normally soft features so soured, mouth drawn into a tight line and optics darkened into a furrowed glare. With his massive stride, it didn’t take long before Sludge reached you. His servo came to rest behind Swoop, the back of the booth’s bench groaning under his weight as he leaned down, optic to optic with his brother.

“What you Swoop think you do?” His voice seemed edged with a nervous worry.

“Me just talking to Y/N,” Swoop answered, flashing the Brontosaurus the same mischievous smile he had given you earlier. “You know they want go fishing? Me say you should take them!”

“Yeah,” you interjected, ignoring the fact that you had never discussed joining the Dinobots on their fishing exploits. “I think it sounds like fun!” You couldn’t help the eagerness that steeped into your EM field, hopeful that you might finally get an opportunity to spend some true quality time with him outside of the occasional med bay visit. 

Sludge seemed to soften a bit at your reply, gifting you with a gentle smile before his brow furrowed. His smile turned to a slight pout as his gaze drifted down, seeming to be a bit lost in thought. He exvented sharply, lugging Swoop out of his seat and maneuvering the now indignant mech around to carry him under one arm. Ignoring his squirming brother, he turned to you with a sad smile that he tried to mask with a projected air of confidence in his EM.

“Me Sludge think on it. Would be fun. Uh, him Ratchet ask to talk to him Swoop, so we see you Y/N later.” With the lame excuse, he turned to leave the Rec. With a loud squawk, Swoop made his opinion on the matter known.

“No! Him Sludge like Y/N! Like whole bunch!” That seemed to stop the brontosaurus dead in his tracks, grip loosened enough in shock that the loud flyer was able to transform out of his grasp. He seemed stuck in place as his processor caught up with the situation. In contrast, you and Swoop seemed to be a flurry of movement, standing up from your seat in the booth as the Pteranodon perched himself on the back of the bench.

“Really?” Your response, lackluster as it might’ve been, was all you could dumbly muster up at the revelation.

“Yes, him won’t shut up about it! ‘Oh, them Y/N so nice, very sweet. Pretty face, pretty smile. Feel like me Sludge melt when they look at me. So smart, so kind.’” Swoop’s impression left quite a bit to be desired, but that was the last thing on your mind, your gaze drifting to the gentle giant in question as you took in his words. Sludge had sheepishly turned halfway towards you, optics firmly locked to the ground and servos fiddling together nervously. “Us Dinobots try talk to him about anything, him always distracted or drawing you.” That seemed to catch Sludge’s full attention. “Him have big project now, draw y-” A large servo suddenly came to rest on the Pteranodon’s beak, clamping it shut before anything too embarrassing could be shared. You craned your helm up to look at Sludge, his cheek plating positively painted with the glow of his optics and lips drawn into a pout.

“Sludge, is that true? Do you really like me?” His optics bashfully locked on the ground again, answering you with a soft nod. He dared a glance at your face before averting his gaze again. “You know, I like you a lot too.” That seemed to win his attention, finally maintaining some real eye contact. He nodded again with a hum and you frowned. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” That stung, knowing that he was aware of your advances all along and hadn’t done anything. Especially when he apparently liked you too.

He opened his mouth before closing it, brow furrowing. You gave him a moment to formulate his thoughts.

“You Y/N deserve better than Sludge.” He spoke slowly, thinking hard on his words. “Deserve someone smart and not clumsy or stumbly. Deserve someone not hurt you.” You frowned at that.

“Sludge, you are one of the gentlest mech’s I know. You haven’t hurt me yet and I don’t think you will,” you said, stepping closer to him. “And in any case, I think I would know better than anyone else what I deserve. I think I deserve to be happy and getting to spend time with you makes me happy. You make me happy. Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s be happy together.”

BONUS:  
“SQUAWK! Let Swoop go! No want to see smooches!”


End file.
